FURTHER AND FATHER ALONG.
I'm looking forward to the summer. Wholeheartedly. I'm excited about fresh veggies, about sunshine, about dirt (as opposed to mud, about which I cannot even feign excitement). But I have to say that I'm going to miss seeing Further as much as I have been. We spend a lot of time together, and it's been a wonderful thing. I've watched him progress, fatten, smile. Though with these tastes of the busy season, days worth of soil blocks and working around the farm, I've been worrying that in the summer I'm going to be too occupied for us to get much time together.Then, as soon as I have this thought, I throw it out. I am, to be clear, a very lucky father. My job, our lifestyle, makes it so. I will get to see my son often during the busy season––in the cabin, in the garden, all around the farm––even when I'm literally running around to finish projects, but especially when I'm not.Farm life is an ally of parenthood. Our home is near the garden. The garden is close to home. Work and life are neighbors here. And sure, farming may not always be completely in sync with parenthood––especially for how demanding the job can be––but they certainly seem to look out for one another, as good neighbors tend to do. Hannah gets to be around full-time with our child and I get the next best thing. And when Further is older, he will begin to work with us in the gardens, joining the family business, but also allowing his poor old pop to spend a little extra time with his son.If time is indeed money, well, farming may not always make us much of the latter. But time, it can offer a little of that in exchange. Time with my wife. Time with my son. Time as a family. And right now, I'm happy to get paid a little bit in time. As my child changes with almost blinding speed, there are few things more valuable.- Jesse.
WENDELL WEDNESDAY.
On cold and rainy days, he can be found sleeping inside of a cardboard box under the cabin. It makes for a cheap doghouse!
SEED STARTING IN THE SNOW.
We spent the first sort of warmish day of the year making soil blocks down at the Smith's house, and letting Further get his first good dose of sunshine.
FORWARD MARCH.
It's around the fall when farming is at its most unforgiving. This is the time of year when it's too late to plant more corn. Or more tomatoes. Or more sweet potatoes. Whatever is done is pretty much done and if you made mistakes that year, you have to wait until next year to correct them. This, to me, is one of the hardest times to be farming.But March. Now March is a good month to be a farmer. March is that time of year when you haven't screwed anything up yet. You haven't had that drought yet. You haven't lost that crop to that weed or pest yet. All you have is possibility. March is a clean slate, a fresh palate.I imagine this is what it's like to be a professional athlete (though notably less lucrative). If you have a bad season, you have to wait until next year to improve on it. But like a good athlete, farmer's don't sit around while we wait. We think about what we did wrong. We work on the things we need to improve. We plan, we plot, we prepare ourselves––physically and mentally––for the next year when we will get another shot, another chance to do better than the year before. 2015: 0 wins, 0 loses.For us, this year is about being prepared for dry weather. It's about not raising turkeys. It's about not having goats––well, milk goats, at least. This year we're going to concentrate on our strengths. And our strengths are in the garden. We are good vegetable growers and we love to garden. We will still raise pigs, and maybe ruminants for a few months, but Further will be our primary livestock this year.With that said, we're feeling really good about this season. I mean, I say that every March, but with one more year of experience under our belts I feel more confident than ever. I'm excited about this growing season. I'm excited about the people we're going to feed. It's going to be a good year. I can almost taste it. Well, almost––tasting it starts next month.- Jesse.